


Outrigger

by maven



Category: E.R.
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-21
Updated: 2013-10-21
Packaged: 2017-12-29 22:11:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1010708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maven/pseuds/maven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>or The Incredibly Fictitious Story of Two Paramedics in Love</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Crossroads](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/29492) by Tucker Glenn. 



> This series is a spin-off from the Thingverse series where the focus is on Sandy's fire station more than the hospital. So as part of the E.R. fandom it's canon up until the end of Season 7 (Rampage) and then alternative universe.
> 
> Sawyer and Jo are uber-characters in the Xena sense. Their "originals" are from a Division fanfic called Crossroads. The author kindly lets me play with them and I've put them in E.R., Star Trek and a few other genres. It's all very Six-Degrees-of-Kevin-Bacon careening through Facts of Life and Division and E.R. and back again.

"Wanna listen to some music?"

"That’s against regs."

"Tape or me singing. Those are your choices."

Jo sighed. "Whachya got?"

Sawyer flipped through the cassettes. "Sophie B. Hawkins. Indigo Girls, you ever heard of them?"

Grateful that she wasn’t drinking coffee Jo nodded.

"They’re kinda folky. Wasn’t sure. Melissa Etheridge, ummm, I just grabbed a few…"

"You trying to tell me something, Sawyer?"

Sawyer looked up from rummaging in the duffle. "I said I wanted to listen to music."

"I meant the artists. They’re all..." Jo waved her hand around in a vague gesture.

"Female. Yeah. Sorry, let me look. Hey, Age of Consent! I haven’t played that in years!"

Jo inwardly shook her head in amazement, unsure if Sawyer were as clueless as she was making out or if this was just some grand, chain yanking practical joke.

One could never be sure with Sawyer.

"How do you think he gets his voice so high?" Sawyer asked as the Bronski Beat tape began.

"I’m sure I don’t want to know."

+++++

The rig skidded to a stop, bumper nearly touching the police car and Jo muttered darkly as Sawyer threw herself from the door. After a week of partnership Jo had yet to convince Sawyer that the seat belt should remain, as per regs, on until the rig was stopped. Hell, she could barely convince Sawyer to remain *in* the rig until it was stopped.

By the time Jo arrived at the car Sawyer had the drug box spread out. "I'm using a neck collar for the passenger, no air bag. Driver is fine, no other passengers. Wanna check out the other vehicle? Shout if you need anything."

Leaving Sawyer to argue the definition of ‘fine’ with the irate driver Jo hurried to the other vehicle. From the looks of it the accident was a classic 'I can beat the red/I can jump the green' collision, Jo thought. The trucks were arriving, gear being unloaded to free the driver of the ‘I can jump the green’ Chrysler.

The occupants of 'beat the red' Ford encircled the car, yelling loudly in Spanish while a small child wailed inside. The answering cops were there as well, trying to translate the father's wild gestures into something recognizable. With a somewhat limited Spanish vocabulary Jo was able to catch the word for "baby" but a quick glance in the back seat showed the upset toddler safely encased in his car seat.

Jo nearly knocked herself out when she ducked back down to do a double take at the back seat.

"Sawyer!"

"What!"

"Need you here!"

Sawyer waved over at the newly arriving rig. "Can't they take over?"

Jo watched the two paramedics exit the second ambulance. Dom and Brian were rumoured to be able to bench press a Volvo, which made them favourites at accident scenes were brute strength was necessary.

"No. Get over here. And bring the gurney and extra blankets."

A minute later Sawyer was at the car. "This had better be... oh my God."

"Yeah. Get in there."

"Me! I don't know nothin' about birthin' no babies!"

"You're the only one that fits, Sawyer."

"Fucking discrimination if you ask me," Sawyer said, squeezing into the back seat. "Y'all better hope I was awake and sober during this course."

"Just... do what comes naturally," Jo suggested. "It'll be a piece of cake."

"You tell me what is natural about giving birth to a baby in the back of a '89 Ford on Morgan Street in fucking rush hour!"

Around then the conversation switched entirely to screaming Spanish as Sawyer yelled instructions, the father encouragement, the mother curses and the toddler on general principle.

"Okay, I think everything's stopped for now. Let's get her into the rig."

"I dunno. What if she has the baby on the way?"

"Better in the rig than a Ford. That's all I should need to say here, Jo."

"Okay, let's go."

"Yeah, and get Dom to drive so you can ride with me."

"What!"

"Let Hans and Franz do the guy thing and drive the rigs and you help me."

"But but but…"

"One of the fireman paramedics can ride with the whiner."

"But but but…"

"Jo, it's just a baby. Nature. Piece of cake, right?"

+++++

"What have you got?"

"We called in for OB doctor."

"And you got me. Ex-OB nurse and Trauma nurse."

"An ex-nurse?" Sawyer asked sharply. "Why ex?"

"Medical student. What have you got?"

"Aren't we lucky? Well, Nurse Two-in-One we got a fifteen minute old baby. Pulse and blood pressure good for a baby. One female, late 20s, very conscious, pulse and BP good for someone that just spent the last half hour screaming at the top of her lungs. One male, late 20s, very unconscious, pulse and BP good for a wuss that faints at the first sign of blood," Sawyer said.

"Please pardon Sawyer. She's never had a baby before."

"And you've had how many?"

"Delivered three. Including twins."

"And you never told me!"

"Learning experience."

"You're lucky Nurse... Nurse."

"Abby."

"Nurse Abby."

"Just Abby."

"Lucky Just Abby is trauma trained because I'm going to trauma you."

"Now Sawyer..."

"Now Polziaczek..."

"You two want to go get the father from your rig? You can put the whole family in Exam Three."

"Half the family, Nurse Abby. The grandparents and other kids are on their way. And you'd better get a translator because they strained my Spanish skills to the limit."

"Come on, Sawyer, I’ll buy you a coffee to make up for the learning experience."

"It’s gonna take more than a cup of coffee to erase the trauma, Polziaczek. But it’s a start."

+++++

"Splain this again."

"They want to name the baby after you," Chuny said slowly for the third time.

"They want to name the baby after me?"

"It's fairly common," Jo said. "They named the twins Joseph and Josephine after me. Sort of an homage."

"That's not an homage. That's sick."

"Come on, Sawyer. What's the T stand for?" Chuny asked.

"Yeah, what does the T stand for?" Jo asked.

"You wouldn't want to name a boy that. You wouldn't want to name anything that."

"Tell that to her," Chuny said, jerking her head down toward the doorway of Exam Three where the three hundred year old, mummified matriarch stood glaring at Sawyer."

+++++

"So Sawyer leans down and whispers something into the old lady's ear and---"

Jo paused dramatically and the group of fire-fighters and paramedics all waited. There was a mix of two shifts as people gathered in the mess to catch up on the gossip.

"---And then she took a step back and made the sign of the cross at Sawyer."

The crowd around the mess table laughed. "So, what does the T stand for?"

"I never did learn, Sandy. She didn't say then and she hasn't talked to me since. She's in Yensen's office doing a debrief on the delivery."

"She that mad at you? That she's not talking at all?"

"I don't see why," Jo said defensively. "I mean, I was right there. And I would have suggested Dom driving the rig if she hadn't. It wasn't like she was being thrown to wolves."

The crowd shifted uneasily, the fine line between razzing the new guy and looking out for your partner being clearly fuzzy at this point.

"Hey, what's up?" Sawyer asked from the doorway.

"Just talking," Jo said cautiously, the kitchen quickly clearing as those coming on shift headed out to prepare and those going off shift decided now was a good time to go home.

Sawyer smiled bemusedly as Dom and Brian brushed past her on the way out. "Man, can I clear a room? Anything I need to know before next shift, Jo?"

"Ah, no," Jo said. Sawyer nodded and turned to leave. "Ah, Tee?"

"Yeah, Jo?"

"There's some updates for the manual we'll need to go over first thing next shift."

"Chris told me about them in the debrief. Anything else?"

"Ah, no," Jo said. Sawyer nodded and turned to leave again. "Ah, Tee?"

"Yeah, Jo?"

"That was good work out there. With the baby and all."

"Yeah, well, nature. Late model Ford and rush hour notwithstanding. See you in a couple of days."

"Well, just wanted to say," Jo said as Sawyer again turned to leave. "Ah, Tee?"

"Yes, Jo?"

"You, ah, got plans? I thought we could maybe spend a little off duty time and..."

Sawyer winced, whether at the suggestion or her next words. "Just made other plans. I think Yensen felt sorry for me and is treating me to a video takeout. Maybe some other time."

Jo nodded, vaguely aware of feelings of disappointment and guilt. "What are you going to watch?"

"Some thriller I think. Umm, Following Abby, no, Pursuing, no, Hunting, no… Hey! Chris! What's the name of the video?"

"Chasing Amy," Chris Yensen said as she appeared in the doorway behind Sawyer.

"Right, Chasing Amy," Sawyer agreed.

"Chasing Amy. A thriller," Jo said, beginning to suspect that the entire universe was in on some cosmic practical joke that only she was unaware of.

"Maybe one of those comedy thrillers. Like Bandits."

"Well, tell me about it. Okay?"

"Sure. C'mon, Chris."

+++++

"Did you ever think that the entire universe is in on some cosmic practical joke that only you're unaware of?" Jo asked Sandy roughly 45 hours later.

Sandy looked up from her breakfast that consisted of all four food groups, fried in about a quarter pound of butter. "What do you mean?"

"Like I said. Like everything happens just to amuse someone."

Sandy regarded her for a moment. "God is watching you. And he's laughing."

"That's not funny."

"It's not meant to be. He is."

"Glad someone is enjoying my life. Is that the official Catholic line? God is watching and laughing at you?"

"Not exactly. And I'm a bad person to ask."

"Ah yes, you're not a good Catholic girl anymore."

Sandy grinned, a grin that combined a leer with come hither eyes and for a brief moment Jo wished that things had gone beyond friendship with them.

"Right now I'm a very bad Catholic," Sandy said before looking down at her plate, suddenly serious. "And will be until things change. Now, why are you providing God with his morning chuckle?"

"There's this person."

"A woman because you're doing the pronoun thing and because guys don't get you all religious. At least, not that way."

"Shut up. Why do I talk to you?"

"I'm cute, funny, intelligent, gay, in the same line of work and I put up with you. Now, this person. Straight or not?"

"Don't know."

"Well, do you think they're interested in you?"

"Don't know."

"But you like them. Right?"

"I don't know," Jo said, lowering her head until her forehead rested on the table and bouncing it slightly so that it made nice, satisfying thunk sounds until Sandy slid a paper napkin under it.

"Let me summarize," Sandy said. "You may or may not be interested in a woman who may or may not be interested in you and who may or may not be gay."

"Yeah. That covers it."

"Why don't you ask?"

Jo shot upright. "I can't!" she said in panic.

Sandy munched on some toast thoughtfully. "You've got a crush on Sawyer," she said.

Thunk thunk thunk.

"Stop that. You're scaring the customers and they'll kick us out. What's the problem?"

"She brings, like, the complete lesbian music collection to listen to in the rig but seems totally oblivious to the fact that any of them are gay. She'll babble on and on about this book she's reading by some Rule chick and the characters and then drop that its Ann Rule. Yensen and she had a video pizza party during the down shift and were going to watch Chasing Amy. I'm so confused."

"Stop whining. Think she's testing the water or pulling your leg?"

"I can't tell," Jo said, continuing to whine. "She's got this Texas gosh-shucks naïve thing going. And Yensen is Canadian with that whole bizarre sense of humour thing. Like the national sport up there is tormenting Americans."

"You're screwed. Figuratively speaking that is."

"Thanks. What should I do?"

"Well, either try to sound out Sawyer with increasingly harder hints or..."

"Or?"

"Get over it."

+++++

"So, whachya listening to?" Jo asked, perched on the side of her bunk. One thing she liked about Sawyer was that she didn't listen to her Discman at boombox decibel levels.

"Lucinda Williams."

"Oh," Jo said, trying to think of something to say about an artist that she'd never heard of without sounding stupid. Failing that she changed the subject. "How was the video?"

"Well, it started off about comic books and was real slow. Didn't get very thrilling so we talked the video store into exchanging it for Unbreakable instead."

Jo nodded. "Because it's about comic books too."

"No, because it was by the guy who made Sixth Sense and we hadn't seen it. The comic book thing is just one of those cosmic joke coincidences."

"Hoooo-kay," Jo said, desperately trying to control the conversation but saved finally by the alarm klaxon.

+++++

"Okay, just breath normally," Jo instructed, holding the mask until the man nodded and his panicked breathing had begun to slow. Around the stillness of the back of the rig there was utter chaos as more fire engines and ambulances arrived. There were, Jo reflected two kinds of bad fires. More engine bad and more ambulance bad. This one was a tossup.

"I need the burn kit," Sawyer said, depositing a firefighter on the bumper of the ambulance before jumping inside and returning with another oxygen setup and the large plastic box containing the specialized dressings. "They plan twoed us. Chris arrived about five minutes ago. Our rig has been designated oxygen and Hans and Franz are burn. Everyone else is transport. This guy okay?"

Jo glanced down at the portable monitor. "Yeah. A few more minutes. How bad?"

Sawyer seemed to hesitate as she adjusted the mask over the soot stained face of the exhausted and oblivious firefighter. His heavy coat was singed and darkened in several places. "Lopez's line got hit by a collapsing ceiling. Nothing bad, just a lot of little burns. They're fine. Dave here just sucked too much smoke when he lost his air mask."

Jo released a breath and nodded. "Better run that kit then. I can handle this."

Nodding Sawyer headed back to the other rig where Yensen was directing triage. "Y'all going to call the wagon?"

"On its way. Likely won't need it but better safe. And a good drill," Yensen said, referring to the large van that contained extra medical supplies and equipment and that was, thankfully, terribly underused. "What's Jo got?"

"Two. Dave Roberts, one of Sandy's guys, and a derelict that was sleeping in the basement. Smoke inhalation only. She cleared a few firefighters who went too long on an empty bottle a few minutes ago. I think they're back in there."

"Derelict?" Sandy asked sharply from where she was crouched beside one of her men.

"Yeah. Just smoke. Lucky sommobich."

"Ratty old army surplus coat? Blackhawks knit cap?"

"Uhhh, yeah. Sounds like-- where you going?"

"Kill somebody!"

"Get her. Dom! Follow them!"

With something very close to alarm Jo looked up to see the strange procession bearing down on her. Sandy was in the lead, helmet gone, coat singed and nearly as black as her expression. Sawyer was next, nearly catching up with Sandy before she slipped in a small slick of water, losing a few seconds but not her balance. Dom was bringing up the rear, neither gaining nor slowed by the water. The man beside her yelled something muffled by the oxygen mask while the derelict tossed his roughly aside.

"God damned fire bug," Lopez yelled before the train hit and Jo lost all track of everyone.

"Knife!"

"Bastard!"

"Get 'im down!"

"Watch it!"

Five seconds later it was over. Dom and Sawyer had the derelict on the ground, one arm outstretched with a large knife near his hand. Sandy was crouched down, holding her arm as Dave hovered protectively over her. Two police officers and Yensen arrived.

"I suppose there's an explanation for this," asked one of the cops who looked just as confused as Jo felt.

"Suspected arsonist. He was at the scene of three other fires over the last two years that we know about," Sandy said.

"And he pulled a knife on the Lieutenant."

"Right. We'll take him then." Without much further fanfare the two police officers cuffed and half dragged the man away.

"Let me see," Yensen ordered Sandy. She peeled away the jacket from the wound. "You need to go to the hospital."

"Not until this is contained I don't."

Yensen sighed. "No, but you stay out. Keep pressure on it. Understood?" Sandy nodded. "Right. Jo, Sawyer, you take her in. Last rig out, okay?"

"Got it," Sawyer said.

"Fine. You'll know where to find me. Dom, let's get back."

+++++

"This is taking too damn long," Sawyer muttered for the hundredth time.

"Calm down," Sandy said. "It just stings a bit."

"It's been ten minutes."

"Well, I waited longer at the scene than here so I don't..."

"Screw it. Squeaky wheel gets the grease."

"Um, Sawyer? What are..."

"Right! Listen up," Sawyer yelled at the top of her lungs. "I have an injured person here and if I don't see a fucking doctor now and I mean a real doctor and not a candy assed intern and by now I mean… Hey! You!"

Jo paled as she realized that Sawyer had attracted the attention of the Chief of Trauma herself. "Oh, God," hissed Sandy beside her. "She's so dead."

"Do you work here?" Sawyer continued, oblivious to Jo and Sandy's horror. "Are you a doctor?"

Weaver raised an eyebrow and nodded. "I'm Dr. Weaver. I'm the Chief of Emergency Medicine here."

"You run this place?" Sawyer asked in amazement.

"Yes, I do."

"Well, you're doing a piss poor job, Weaver, if it takes ten minutes to get someone to see a fire fighter who's bleeding all over the floor."

A stunned hush fell over the emergency department as everyone froze before frantically looking for something to do that would take them very far away from the imminent explosion. There was a heartbeat of hesitation from Weaver before she merely nodded, as if to herself and then pushed past Sawyer to get at Sandy.

"What happened to your arm, Sandy? Jo, can you release the pressure so I can see?"

"Their patient turned out to be the fire bug," Sandy said. She'd managed to get the heavy coat off and Jo had converted her shirt to a short sleeved with a pair of surgical scissors so that the wound was easy to access.

"So he pulled a knife," added Jo, "when Mighty Mouse here confronted him."

"Not the smartest thing I've ever done," Sandy admitted.

"Damn right," muttered Sawyer from behind Weaver.

"Go to that desk and ask for a suture kit," Weaver said, turning to Sawyer and pointing to the admit desk where the clerk was making a poor attempt to disguise the fact that she was watching the scene.

"I'm your lackey now?"

"We're busy and that's fastest."

Sawyer nodded, trotting over to the admit desk. "I need a suture kit for the Doc with the crutch."

"Dr. Weaver."

"Yeah, whatever."

"Doctor," the clerk said, motioning for Sawyer to follow, "Kerry. Weaver. MD. Medical doctor. Chief of Trauma. Not," she continued as she led Sawyer into the suture room, grabbed a suture kit and shoved it forcibly into Sawyer's chest, "Doc with the crutch. Got it?"

"Oh, yeah," Sawyer said. "Thanks."

"I'll need to cut some more here," Weaver said as Sawyer returned, trimming a bit more shirt sleeve before beginning to clean the wound. Taking the hypodermic she reflexively checked the dosage before administering the shot.

"Shallow," Weaver said as she began to stitch, "lots of blood but no muscle damage. Needless to say you're on light duty until this heals properly and needless to say I'll be emailing your supervisor to make sure the paperwork doesn't get lost."

Weaver snipped the last stitch close and affixed a sterile bandage before gathering up the remains of the kit.

"Any questions?"

"Yeah, you work a lot of shifts?" Sawyer asked.

"I do. Why?"

"Figuring the odds of running into you again."

"Near a hundred percent if you've pissed her off," Jo heard herself say as she desperately tried to figure out why Sawyer was asking.

Sawyer looked honestly puzzled. "Did I do that?"

Jo and Sandy nodded their heads up and down but Weaver just shook hers. "Not at all. You pointed out an area of concern that I need to review with the staff. I'm grateful."

Sawyer's eyes went wide in surprise. "I did piss you off."

"Yeah but I got over it."

"Good, good," Sawyer said. "Say, listen, can I ask you a personal question?"

Weaver nodded before holding up a hand to excuse herself as two other doctors walk by.

"You on schedule today, Dr. Legaspi?"

"Leaving at five, Dr. Weaver. Be there or be square."

The three watched Weaver watch Legaspi as she headed to the elevator before turning back to Sawyer. "You have a question?"

"Nooooo," Sawyer drawled with a grin. "I mean, I did but I think I got the answer. And to my next question too. You have a good day, Doc. Sandy if you're finished goofin' off we can drop you at the station."

And with a bemused and bewildered smile Jo followed Sandy and Sawyer, wondering if the day, or her life, could get any weirder.


	2. Chapter 2

"She was hitting on Weaver."  
  
"She was insulting the woman."  
  
"For Sawyer, that would be flirting," Jo insisted.  
  
Sandy shook her head. "I dunno."  
  
"I know! Why don't you ask her?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"You know, say you heard that someone at the station was asking if she was interested in maybe dating someone at the station."  
  
"You're joking."  
  
"No, it's great. No risk."  
  
"For you. I, on the other hand, have a rep to protect." Sandy's voice shifted into a high, singsong," Gosh Jo, couldn't we just slip a note into her locker while she's in chemistry class?"  
  
"You don't have to help."  
  
"Good."  
  
"Please please please?"  
  
"The whining is new. I don't like it."  
  
"It's not whining," Jo insisted. "It's begging."  
  
"It's cowardly."  
  
"Please? I'll owe you."  
  
Sandy cocked her head, considering it. "Good, I'll call it in now. I do this, you sign up for the cross training course in two months."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I find out what Sawyer's intentions are towards you and you do your best to get your Suppression and Rescue certification."  
  
Jo stared at her in amazement.  
  
"Well?" Sandy finally asked.  
  
"You don't know what you're asking."  
  
"Yeah, I do."  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"She not worth it?"  
  
"Do all lieutenants play dirty like this?"  
  
"Part of the exam. What do you say?"  
  
Jo paused. "Fine. I'll sign up. I'll do my best. You," she said, pointing at Sandy, "will not razz me if I choke."  
  
"Deal."  
  
"Am I going to regret this?"  
  
"Oh," Sandy said, waving of the suggestion casually. "Probably."  
  
+++++  
  
If she didn't come to regret it through God and fate, Sandy thought to herself an hour later, I will make her regret this.  
  
"Sandwich, Lieutenant," Sawyer asked as she reached up to pull down a sandwich plate.  
  
"Call me Sandy," Sandy said, grateful that the kitchen was vacant.  
  
"Oh, no, Lieutenant. I couldn't call you that on duty."  
  
"Well, we're on break."  
  
"No, it's still on duty," Sawyer said.  
  
"Okay. Well, you're not in my chain of command."  
  
"No, that's true. But if I call you Sandy then I might call Chief Roberts Bill and that's just wrong."  
  
It was about then, when Sandy realized that Sawyer's accent had switched from ubiquitous to southern, that Sandy figured she was being played.  
  
"What about Chris?"  
  
"Well, she made it an order. Said I was to call her Chris instead of Lieutenant Yensen or I'd have to put all the drugs in all the drug boxes into alphabetical order at the beginning of my shift for a month."  
  
"Okay, I order you to call me Sandy."  
  
"But you're not in my chain of command," Sawyer said, handing Sandy a peanut butter and jelly and banana sandwich.  
  
"Right, of course not," Sandy said, looking dubiously at the sandwich and then at Sawyer as she made another. "Look, what I want to talk to you about is… there's this person in the station who is kind of interested in you."  
  
Sawyer nodded. "I'm flattered Lieutenant but I make it a principle not to date my superior officers. Even if they're not in my direct line of command."  
  
"Not me!"  
  
"Oh. My mistake," Sawyer said. Not sounding the least bit sorry. "I just assumed."  
  
"No."  
  
"Someone else? No," she said, holding up a hand and nearly sending a glob of peanut butter into Sandy's face. "Best to keep it vague right now."  
  
"Right. Vague," Sandy said, plotting further revenge on Jo. "I can do vague. So, Sawyer, if they were a paramedic or a firefighter, not a lieutenant or higher, would you object to going out with someone who worked at the station?"  
  
"Well, not while on duty."  
  
"No, of course not."  
  
"And no one who was married or in a relationship already."  
  
"No, of course not."  
  
"Or Mikey or Tony because they just broke up with their girls and that's just rebound and asking for trouble."  
  
"Right."  
  
"And not Hans or Franz. They're just scary in a social setting. Did you see them at the Christmas thing?"  
  
"Yeah," Sandy said. Almost praying for an alarm.  
  
"Doesn't leave many. You sure you didn't mean you? 'Cause, you know if it weren't for you being a lieutenant…"  
  
"No!"  
  
"You going to eat that?" Sawyer asked, gesturing at the sandwich.  
  
"No, I don't think I am," Sandy said as the alarm klaxon went off.  
  
"Guess I'm not either."  
  
+++++  
  
The apartment building was fully engulfed from the third to fifth floors by the time they arrived.  
  
"Lopez, take a line through the north entrance. Where the hell is my second ambulance?"  
  
"They were on a run. They're turning around for here as soon as they drop off at County."  
  
"And the 33rd?"  
  
"ETA five minutes," Tony said, dropping from the cab and fastening his helmet.  
  
Chief Roberts looked around the crowd. Residential fires during the day meant fewer trapped people.  
  
"Great. Tony, take the second and third line through the main entrance. We'll have to hold until the 33rd gets here before we get serious. The cops done their canvass yet?"  
  
"They think everyone is out of three and up."  
  
"Thank you for small mercies. Get out of here," Roberts said. He turned to Sawyer and Jo. "Just us until the cavalry gets here."  
  
"Chief," came Lopez's voice, tinny over the small lapel speaker mike on Robert's coat. "I got a man injured by the forth floor stairwell. Need back board and neck brace."  
  
"Shit. The 33rd hasn't arrived. I'll try to pull out… Sawyer, get your ass back here!"  
  
Jo watched Sawyer's rapidly receding back in shock. Then she scooped up the drug box and began to run.  
  
"Damnit! Lopez, Sawyer and Jo are on their way."  
  
+++++  
  
"What the hell am I supposed to do here?"  
  
Jo and Sawyer remained wisely silent.  
  
"Suspend your asses two weeks is what I'm supposed to do. Put a permanent in your file and tell you both if you pull a stunt like that again I'll fire you so fast that… Damn!"  
  
"Lieutenant Yensen…"  
  
"Don't you 'Lieutenant Yensen' me, Paramedic T. Sawyer!"  
  
"Chris…"  
  
"Don't 'Chris' me either. Damn!"  
  
Sawyer returned to wise silence.  
  
Finally Yensen sighed. "You're both off for the rest of the shift. Reflect. Relax. Resolve not to do stupid things like that again. Write out 'I will not abandon my rig to play fireman ever again' one hundred times."  
  
"Yes, ma'am," they chorused.  
  
Yensen sighed, finally falling into her chair. "You two okay?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Good. Get out."  
  
Silently they stood and left the office, heading straight for the locker room.  
  
"You feel like you were just called to the principal's office?" Sawyer asked.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Are you okay?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
Sawyer pulled on her coat, hesitating as she watched Jo aimlessly poke around in her locker.  
  
"You bring the El in today?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
Sawyer frowned. "Come on. I'll give you a lift."  
  
"I'm fine."  
  
"I know you're fine. I'm giving you a lift. C'mon."  
  
The car ride was largely silent to Jo. Sawyer left the radio off and she watched the passing cityscape with idle curiosity.  
  
"Hey, Jo, you okay?"  
  
"Damn it, T. Sawyer I am okay. The only thing that is not okay is the fact that everyone has been asking me every three seconds if I'm okay. Which is driving me fucking batty so stop asking. If I weren't okay I'd say. I'd say, no, I'm not okay. But I am okay. I'm fine, spiffy, A-one, five by freaking five okay. Got it?"  
  
"Yeah. You're okay."  
  
"Damn straight."  
  
Sawyer opened her mouth as if to say something but instead shook her head. She paused and Jo realized with a start that the car was not only motionless but it was parked at an unfamiliar apartment building.  
  
"Where are we?" she asked.  
  
"Well, I asked you five or six times where you lived but, you being okay and all, didn't answer. So I came home."  
  
"Oh, shit."  
  
"Yeah. And after you sat here, being okay and all, for ten minutes I decided to inquire into your mental state."  
  
"Shit," Jo said, thumping her fist onto her leg. "Sorry about that."  
  
"No problem. Seeing as you're okay and all, you want to come in until you're a bit more okay?"  
  
"You have an accent."  
  
Sawyer nodded. "It usually only shows when I'm not okay. Or teasing the hell out of someone."  
  
"Which is it now?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Jo regarded Sawyer for a few moments before nodding. "Right. I'll come up."  
  
"No," said Sawyer, as they got out of the car.  
  
"No what?"  
  
"In. Not up," Sawyer said as she led the way to a patio door. She rapped on the glass.  
  
"Room mate?"  
  
"Sort of," Sawyer said as a small mongrel dog appeared at the door. It barked twice and then grabbed the piece of sawed off hockey stick that was acting as a burglar bar for the sliding door.  
  
"Smart dog," Jo said as Sawyer slid the door open.  
  
"He's a good dog. He's a great dog," Sawyer said, kneeling down and grabbing a double handful of ear and shaking his head. "You're a good dog, ainchya Digger?"  
  
"Digger?"  
  
Sawyer stood and motioned Jo inside. "Digger. Loves to dig. Last week he dug up the next over guy's potted plant."  
  
"You two get into trouble about the potted plant?"  
  
"Nah. Because it was a potted-pot plant, right Digger? He ain't gonna call the cops on us. You just make yourself at home. Sit. Can I getchya anything to drink?"  
  
Jo looked around the apartment for a place to sit. "Juice is fine."  
  
"Ah, no juice."  
  
"Water is good."  
  
"Water?" Sawyer asked. Jo could hear cupboards banging and muttering and then Sawyer was coming from the kitchen with a glass of water in one hand and a bottle of beer in the other. "Water? Like, plants drink water. Fish swim in water. Water water?"  
  
Jo smiled, taking the glass. "Water."  
  
"Takes all kinds to make the world turn around. Water," Sawyer again said bemusedly as she sat on the couch.  
  
Weighing her options Jo elected to sit beside her. Digger turned in a circle before flopping down in the space normally reserved for a coffee table, head resting on his front paws.  
  
"Not big on furniture?"  
  
Sawyer looked around as if seeing the apartment for the first time. "No, I guess I'm not. But I have all the major pieces."  
  
Jo nodded in agreement although she wasn't sure that the two folding card tables qualified as either a dining table or computer desk.  
  
"You don't have a TV."  
  
"Nope. Don't see the sense with my shift."  
  
"Yeah. I can see that," Jo said. With that conversation dead she searched for another, discarding sports, weather, politics and religion before cycling through them again. Beside her Sawyer seemed content to merely sit and drink the beer. Jo examined her now empty water glass, glancing sideways at Sawyer who was, with equal intensity, examining the empty beer bottle. Somehow Sawyer seemed to be getting larger, closer and, with a start, Jo realized it was because she was leaning. Leaning toward Sawyer.  
  
"You don't want to do this," Sawyer said abruptly. Digger half popped up, looked at both before settling down again.  
  
"What?"  
  
"This."  
  
"This what?"  
  
Sawyer waved to encompass the universe. "This."  
  
"You're not interested. I'm sorry. Obviously--"  
  
"Whoa. I said you don't want to do this. I am not talking about me right now."  
  
"But I do want this."  
  
"No, you don't."  
  
Jo stood. "I'm beginning to agree. Why don't I?"  
  
"Because you'll never really know if it's me or the fact that you didn't die today."  
  
Jo stared at her, silent and still, for several moments before pivoting on her heel sharply away and throwing her hands in the air.  
  
"Damn!" she exclaimed, pacing away as far as the small living room allowed. "But you are interested," she said, turning back to face Sawyer.  
  
"I don't think you want me to answer that."  
  
"Of course I don't," Jo said sarcastically. "Why don't I?"  
  
"Because you won't know if it's you or the fact that I didn't die today"  
  
"Damn. How'd you get so smart?"  
  
"Experience."  
  
"At not dying or getting hit on by people who didn't die?"  
  
"Yes. You play computer games?"  
  
"Wha? No."  
  
"Okay. How about pool? I never see you at the table at the station."  
  
"Are you trying to change the subject?"  
  
"I am trying. You should stop resisting now."  
  
+++++  
  
"So you went to a pool hall?"  
  
"Pool dive would be closer," Jo said to Sandy at the diner over breakfast. "It looked like it hadn't been cleaned in about fifty years. Anyway, we played pool and then she took me home."  
  
"She put the move on you?"  
  
"The move?"  
  
"You know, let me help you make the shot and drape herself on you."  
  
Jo grinned. "Nah, the height thing makes that problematical. No flirting or moves or anything."  
  
"You don't sound disappointed."  
  
"I'm not. I should be but I'm not."  
  
"You got it bad, Poliaznek."  
  
"Yeah, I think I do."  
  
+++++  
  
The new automatic doors were nice, Jo thought. While they didn't have that material thunk to announce the arrival of the ambulance crew she had always been afraid that the jarring would knock something off the gurney. Like an IV bag or monitor.  
  
Or, in this case, a leg.  
  
"This the mad axeman?"  
  
"Indeed it is, Dr. Weaver," Sawyer said. "Pulse is weak, blood pressure sucks. We've put two bags in him and are controlling the bleeding but it looks like he really nicked that artery thing."  
  
"When did he lose consciousness?" Weaver asked, motioning a med student to hold the little flashlight while she checked the pupils.  
  
Jo and Sawyer exchanged glances. "That would be immediately following my punching him in the jaw," Sawyer said.  
  
The crowd around the gurney all stared at Sawyer.  
  
"Okay, people. Type and match. Tox screen. Get psych consult recorded on his file and put him in soft restraints."  
  
"Why?" asked one of the med students.  
  
"Because Chicago paramedics, even Sawyer, aren't in the habit of punching out patients without cause. Sawyer, does all that blood on you belong to him?"  
  
"No, ma'am."  
  
"Jo, Abby, get her to Curtain Two. The rest of you are with me. We're going to stitch up the artery and then ship him upstairs where ortho will make sure that there's no permanent damage. The med student who annoys me the least for the next 20 minutes can accompany him as a field trip."  
  
"She sounds just like my kindergarten teacher," Jo said, her voice bemused.  
  
"Yeah. My brother says the same thing only it's about a drill sergeant in basic. Let's get Sawyer looked after."  
  
"Abby Normal, I think you might want to get an x-ray," Sawyer said, leading the way to Curtain Two.  
  
"Why?" Jo asked.  
  
Sawyer held up her right hand. It was swollen, slightly misshapen and turning a bright red across the first set of knuckles. "He did not have a glass jaw. More like a steel reinforced concrete jaw."  
  
"Jesus, T. Why didn't you say something."  
  
"Didn't hurt until now."  
  
"How bad?" Abby asked.  
  
"Oh, pretty bad," Sawyer said. "I'm going to fall down now."  
  
"She makes things complicated, doesn't she?" Abby said, somehow managing to grab Sawyer around the torso and keep her semi upright as Jo took her legs. Between them they got her onto the examination table.  
  
"You don't know the half of it."  
  
+++++  
  
"You awake?"  
  
"Yes, Dr. Weaver."  
  
Weaver shoved three x-rays into the small light board. "Nothing major broken. You'll wear a cast for a couple of weeks. Your cuts were superficial and Abby stitched you up while you were unconscious."  
  
"Yes, ma'am."  
  
"Keep the cast and dressings dry. Light duty until it comes off."  
  
"Yes, ma'am."  
  
"Give it here," Weaver said, taking the injured hand and guiding it to the small table beside the examination table.  
  
"You're doing the cast?"  
  
"It's quiet and I could use a change of pace. Unless you want a med student to get some practical in?"  
  
"No, ma'am. Thank you, Dr. Weaver."  
  
"You're welcome. Why are you so polite?"  
  
"You're fixing my hand and some nice doctor who looks like Dracula gave me a shot."  
  
Weaver glanced at the file hanging on the end of the bed and snorted in amusement. "I take it back. You're off duty for two hours. No driving for 24 hours."  
  
"No, ma'am," Sawyer said solemnly. She watched intently as Weaver opened a cast kit and began applying the fibreglass strips.  
  
"Will I play the piano when it's off?" Sawyer asked suddenly, a thread of apprehension colouring her tone.  
  
"Of course," Weaver said. "You just broke two small bones. There should be no loss of… Damn."  
  
"Fell for it."  
  
"It's always the old jokes that catch you by surprise."  
  
"What about the guitar?"  
  
Weaver turned Sawyer's hand, looking at the pads of her fingers. "Like I said. No lose of mobility. Your hand will be as good as new."  
  
"Oh." Sawyer said but the tension didn't ease. "Can you make it better?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Make it better. Make it a good hand."  
  
"Sawyer," Weaver said slowly. "Dr. Kovac gave you a shot for the pain."  
  
"I know. It's just, you can't see the blood."  
  
"No, Sawyer, Abby and Jo cleaned up the blood."  
  
"But it's there. Still. You just can't see it."  
  
"It's gone, Sawyer."  
  
"If my hands were faster, smarter, they wouldn't die."  
  
"Sawyer, you're not going to remember any of this conversation. You save lives."  
  
"Not always."  
  
Weaver sighed. "No, not always. You save who you can and you do your best for the rest. Why did you hit the guy?"  
  
"He was bleeding too fast. I knew he nicked an artery."  
  
"So you knocked him out so you could treat him?"  
  
"No, I knocked him out because he went after Jo with the axe."  
  
Weaver smiled involuntarily at the pride and satisfaction in Sawyer's tone.  
  
"This is done. Why don't you take a nap until those meds wear off. I'll let Jo know."  
  
"Okay. Dr. Weaver?"  
  
"Yes, Sawyer?"  
  
"Can you write in my file not to give me this shit again?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
+++++  
  
Jo awoke suddenly, sitting up before realizing whatever it was that had awakened her wasn't the klaxon.  
  
"Easy there," came a soft voice from the bunk beside her.  
  
"You'll ruin your eyes, reading in the dark."  
  
"I got my maglite. You okay?"  
  
Jo looked over the sleeping bunkroom. In deference the guys slept on the north side and the women on the south, the middle ground of empty bunks a dividing line of pseudo privacy.  
  
"No. Nightmares the last couple of nights."  
  
Sawyer nodded. "Figured. I keep dreaming about the noise."  
  
Jo smiled, falling back lightly onto the bunk and staring at the ceiling. "It's noisy."  
  
"Takes you aback. Not like the crackle of a campfire. It roared. Never noticed standing outside."  
  
"You don't hear it outside. Only inside." Jo turned and looked at Sawyer, barely visible in the dim light. "You were wrong."  
  
"I was?"  
  
"Yeah. What nearly happened in your apartment wasn't because I almost died. I'm not going to die in a fire."  
  
"How do you know that?"  
  
"Because there was a fire I was supposed to die in and didn't."  
  
Sawyer was silent. "You wanna tell me more?"  
  
"Not tonight. Not on duty in the dark and… sometime later."  
  
"Okay."  
  
Silence stretched and Jo returned to contemplating the unseen ceiling while Sawyer thumbed the edge of her book, the pages making a thrumming noise.  
  
"Your hand okay? Nothing bad, right?"  
  
Sawyer looked surprised. "No. Weaver said a cast for a bit and maybe a splint. Nothing lasting. Why?"  
  
"Just that she looked worried when she came out."  
  
"I dunno. We just talked about pain killers or something. Can't remember." Thrum, thrum. "Jo?"  
  
"Yeah, T?"  
  
"I am. Going to die in a fire."  
  
Jo turned sharply. "How do you know that?" She raised herself up on her elbow, leaning out over the edge of the bunk toward Sawyer to see her more clearly.  
  
"I just know," Sawyer said, staring at the pages whipping by under her thumb. "When I was a kid. There was this movie. Robert Redford and he was a pilot. A barnstormer in the Depression."  
  
"Yeah, I remember it."  
  
"Remember the scene when his friend crashed. And was pinned and Redford grabbed a stick and hit his friend 'till he killed him?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Promise me you'll do that."  
  
"Sawyer, you're not going into a fire again."  
  
"Promise me."  
  
"I wouldn't have to. Lt. Yensen would kill you first."  
  
"Jo, I ain't foolin' around here. Promise me."  
  
"Fine. If it looks like you're trapped and going to burn to death I'll kill you."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"This is a fucking bizarre conversation. How do you want to go?"  
  
"Morphine overdose?"  
  
"Okay, but I have to get permission from an MD before administering."  
  
"Well, they won't give it. Damn party poopers. Wait, Weaver might."  
  
Jo managed to muffle the giggles with her pillow. "Sawyer?" she asked when she was in control again.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"How do you know I'll be there?"  
  
"You're my partner. Where else would you be?"  
  
+++++  
  
"She's bored."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"She's just leaning here against the wall. You'd think she was asleep."  
  
"Why don't you go talk to her. Buy her a beer. Ask her to dance. Do something."  
  
Jo nodded at Sandy, hesitated a bit more and then walked across the hall to where Sawyer was leaning against the wall by the back door. As usual the trucks had been moved out and the fire station taken over for the retirement celebration to allow the on-duty personnel to attend. And the just off duty shift to arrive as soon as they showered, changed and walked down the stairs. The party had been going full blast for the past few hours, interrupted only once for a brief yard fire.  
  
Sawyer was wearing her 'other' uniform. Jeans and a dark shirt holding a bottle of beer, eyes half closed.  
  
"Bored?" Jo asked as she leaned against the wall beside Sawyer.  
  
"Heavens no."  
  
"Thought you were sleeping."  
  
"Nah. I was watching."  
  
"Right."  
  
"You don't believe me?"  
  
"Of course I do," Jo said, clearly humouring Sawyer.  
  
"You came in at 8:15 and your hair was still damp and so was the back of your T-shirt. You had an orange juice and talked to Sandy, probably about me. You danced with Hanz and Franz together and then each one separately. You danced with the Chief, a slow song and he was a perfect gentleman. You had another juice and talked to Sandy again, probably about me. And now here you are."  
  
Jo stared at her.  
  
"I said I was watching."  
  
"You didn't say you were watching me."  
  
"I always watch you," Sawyer said, voice low and intense. "Did you nearly die today?"  
  
"What? No," Jo said, confused by the shift in conversation.  
  
"Me neither. You wanna blow this party?" Sawyer asked, holding her hand out in invitation.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
+++++  
  
"Where's Digger?"  
  
Sawyer opened the front door of the apartment and turned on the lights.  
  
"I found him a real home. A family. Yard. Kids. It was bad for him, being alone so much."  
  
"You miss him?"  
  
Sawyer shrugged, shutting the door and walking into the kitchen.  
  
"Yeah, stupid question," Jo muttered to herself. "Sawyer?"  
  
"Yeah, Jo? You want that water thing again or I could go to the store and get some juice. Or I…"  
  
"I'm fine."  
  
"Right."  
  
Sawyer put the unopened beer back into the fridge, walking into the living room. She paused in the doorway, watching Jo as she slowly revolved in the middle of the room.  
  
"Whatchya looking for?"  
  
"You."  
  
"I am right here."  
  
"No. I mean I'm looking for you in the room. In the apartment."  
  
"Oh. You find me yet?"  
  
"No," Jo said, puzzlement clear in her tone.  
  
Sawyer looked at her feet. "Tell you what. I'm going to the store to get some juice for you. You look around. Anywhere you want. See if you can find me while I'm gone. If you're here when I get back…"  
  
"If?"  
  
Sawyer cleared her throat, vision still focused on the floor. "If you're here when I get back maybe we could talk some."  
  
"If?"  
  
Sawyer looked up. "Maybe you'll find me and not like what you find."  
  
Jo laughed. "I don't see that happening."  
  
"I found it'sbest to prepare for life's little disappointments. I'll be at least fifteen minutes but less than twenty-five."  
  
Jo smiled and nodded.  
  
"Right," Sawyer said, opening the front door. "Just slam it hard if you leave."  
  
+++++  
  
Twenty minutes later Jo heard the key in the door. There was a pause, between the door opening and Sawyer's entrance. As if she was bracing herself before entering the dark apartment.  
  
"Hey," Jo called out.  
  
"You're here?" Sawyer said, sticking her head through the door.  
  
"Yeah. Can I ask you a question?"  
  
Sawyer looked around, finally locating Jo sitting on the floor, her legs drawn up and her arms resting on her knees. "Sure."  
  
"Are you running to or from?"  
  
Sawyer carefully shut the door and set the plastic grocery bag on the floor. "Yes," she said, coming to stand in front of Jo.  
  
"I looked around. All of your clothes and personal stuff would fit in the duffel bag in your closet. There's no pictures or anything older than ten years and most are the last five. You have a guitar but it's in a traveling case. Your computer is a laptop. None of your dishes or cutlery match."  
  
Sawyer crouched but kept her eyes averted.  
  
"And," Jo said. "You have about ten thousand dollars in traveler's cheques in that duffel."  
  
"Habit."  
  
Jo reached out, catching Sawyer's hands by the fingertips. "Is this a habit you want to break?"  
  
Sawyer nodded, focusing on the joined hands until the gentle tugging finally encouraged her to look up. "I'm used to traveling fast and light."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Not tonight. Not off duty in the dark and… sometime later."  
  
Jo smiled at hearing her words used against her. "Fair enough. Heart baring to be held at a date to be determined later. Can you answer one question?"  
  
"Maybe."  
  
"What does the T stand for?"  
  
"You just want to know for the pool."  
  
"Pool?" Jo said, trying for the right blend of surprise and shock. "T. Sawyer, do you honestly think that you first name would be the subject of gambling pool, do you?"  
  
"Ye-yup."  
  
"Well, it is. But that's not why I want to know."  
  
Sawyer cocked her head to the side, momentarily regarding Jo before rocking forward onto her knees and whispering a single word.  
  
"You're joking."  
  
"You can tell by the amusement in my face, right?"  
  
"Jesus."  
  
"You can't tell anyone," Sawyer cautioned.  
  
"Yeah, right. Like they'd believe me."  
  
"Your turn."  
  
"Sawyer, I really don't have anything that approaches that."  
  
"Everyone does. Some day you're going to be driving the rig and it'll hit ya. Man, that's worse than Sawyer's name. You tell me then."  
  
"Okay. I don't see it happening but I'll keep it in mind."  
  
"You want to stay tonight? The couch is really comfortable."  
  
"I couldn't take your bed."  
  
"No," Sawyer said, grinning, "I told you, the couch is really comfortable."  
  
+++++  
  
"And then?" Sandy asked, food forgotten on the plate in front of her.  
  
"We talked."  
  
"And then?"  
  
"You don't want to know what we talked about?"  
  
"No! And then?"  
  
"I slept on the couch and she slept in her bed and she gave me a lift to my place the next morning."  
  
"That's it?"  
  
"You were expecting…" Jo asked. "What?"  
  
"A little more, obviously. What did you talk about?"  
  
"Oh, now we want conversation details."  
  
"Well?"  
  
"I have no idea," Jo said, grinning happily. "But we did it for four hours."  
  
"Okay. Great. My God, you're pathetic," Sandy said, stirring some more ketchup into her homefries. "Listen, you get that memo in your mailbox at work?"  
  
The tension shifted and Jo pushed her plate away, suddenly not hungry. "What memo?"  
  
"Suppression certification in two days. Morning of your first weekend day."  
  
"So soon."  
  
"Yeah. You'll be there."  
  
It wasn't lost on Jo that it was a statement rather than a question. "Of course. I promised. The guys didn't say anything."  
  
"It's with the 47th. I figured you wouldn't want to do it with people you knew."  
  
"Just in case."  
  
"I didn't say that."  
  
"No. I said it. You thought it."  
  
"Jo…"  
  
"I'll be there."  
  
+++++  
  
It didn't look real. It looked, Sawyer decided, like a movie set. The corner of a house to be filmed in such a way to look like a real house. A real three story house. She squinted, looking through the steam of her coffee, using the hazy image to paint a yard and a trike and glass in the windows. To add sound and motion of a happy home.  
  
She jumped when they turned on the fire.  
  
"Okay, trainees, follow your lead man and you'll be fine. Team one, move out!"  
  
Team one picked up the house, rushing toward the training tower. They paused, bracing as the water was turned on and one trainee went down when it bucked. From the engine the watching firefighters laughed, mainly in remembrance but also with the cockiness of the veteran watching the recruit.  
  
The line of trainees disappeared into the doorway. From the windows Sawyer watched their progress as they beat back the flames and finally cleared the third floor. And then as they whooped and hollered their way down to be greeted by the waiting crowd.  
  
Jo left the building, turning a sharp left and heading toward the back of the parked fire truck.  
  
"Jo?" Sawyer asked when she got there. Jo was pealing off the gear, hanging it neatly on the equipment racks. Stripping down to her dark blue uniform.  
  
"Jo?" Sandy asked, leaving the group to join them.  
  
"I did it. Pass me, fail me, fuck me but I did it and I'm off duty so see you in two days."  
  
"Jo, you passed. The training chief said you…"  
  
"Shut up." The helmet hit the asphalt and Sawyer became aware of the sudden silence as the other group turned their attention. "Am I done here, Lt. Lopez?"  
  
"Jo, I'm sorry."  
  
"Apology accepted. You're a hell of a fire fighter, San, but leave the psych work to professionals," Jo said, turning on her heel and striding toward the parking lot.  
  
Sawyer had to run to catch up.  
  
"You have long legs."  
  
Jo whirled around. "Where are you going?"  
  
"With you."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Where you go, I go."  
  
"What?" Jo said, spinning around to face Sawyer.  
  
"'Entreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee: for whither thou goest, I will go.'"  
  
"You just quoted the Bible at me?" Jo said in shock, walking backwards as Sawyer continued to advance.  
  
"Yeah. Want me to do it again?"  
  
"What, get all Biblical on me?" Jo said, her motion finally stopped by her parked car. Sawyer took the two steps needed to close the distance, placing her hands on the car hood to either side of Jo.  
  
"Blessed are ye that weep now: for ye shall laugh."  
  
Jo stared at her silently before dropping her head, finding it guided to Sawyer's shoulder.  
  
"I wasn't feeling well and it was easier to call in a favour then actually go into work. And so I called Ted and he said he could cover for me."  
  
Sawyer remained silent. Content to wait.  
  
"Roof collapsed and took the next floor with it. He and two guys went down. And I couldn't go back to the station or go into a fire. So I transferred to paramedics and changed fire house."  
  
"You think you should have died instead of Ted?"  
  
"It was my shift. My line. My friends. If I'd been there Ted wouldn't have died. Hell, maybe I could have gotten them out," Jo said, head still buried in Sawyer's shoulder.  
  
"Listen," Sawyer said, "I'm going to say something that I don't want you to mistake as pity or me feeling sorry for you? Okay?"  
  
"Sure. Okay," Jo said. Just before she could feel the hands that hand been holding her arms move to her head, turning and guiding her slightly. Slowly enough so that Jo figured out what was about to happen a whole second before her lips touched Sawyer's.  
  
"What was that for?" Jo asked as Sawyer drew back.  
  
"I couldn't think of anything wise and wonderful to say. And I wanted to stay with the mouth idea."  
  
"So you kissed me? Because I'm fragile and an easy lay or because you finally worked up the nerve?"  
  
"Yes," Sawyer said. "And, what is more, I'm going to do it again now."  
  
The second kiss was longer and only the catcalls from across the parking lot forced them apart.  
  
"We should go somewhere that that they can't see us," Sawyer said.  
  
"My place is closer."  
  
"Actually, my car's back seat has tinted windows. Hey!" she said as Jo swatted her shoulder. "Let's go to your place. An apartment with real furniture sounds interesting."  
  
+++++  
  
"I see what you mean," Sawyer says a half hour later, standing in the middle of the living room and turning a slow circle. The colour of the apartment walls are barely visible, covered by a riot of framed posters, pictures and certificates. Ceramic and brass figures and sculptures cover almost every square centimeter of horizontal surface.  
  
"You mean about seeing me?"  
  
"Yeah. I don't think you could pack this up. Not in a million duffel bags."  
  
"I never planned to. Never even occurred to me."  
  
Sawyer drifted closer to the walls, reading certificates and examining posters closely. It was, Jo thought, an entirely Sawyer thing to do, to ignore the person and focus on the inanimate.  
  
"Most people wait until I leave the room to read them."  
  
"Yeah. Well, you know me."  
  
"No, actually," Jo says. "I don't."  
  
Sawyer turned, walking toward Jo until she was an arm's length away.  
  
"Do you want to start at the beginning? Or do you want to start here and work backwards?"  
  
"Right here," Jo said, closing the space between them. "Right now."  
  
+++++  
  
"And then!"  
  
Jo made shushing noises. "What is your problem, San?"  
  
"Having no relationship at the moment I'm getting my jollies with yours."  
  
"You need to get out more."  
  
Sandy laughed. "Yeah, so I been told. Things going to be weird with you two at work?"  
  
Jo frowned and shook her head. "Don't think so. I think it'll be good."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I think," Jo said slowly, "she needs someone to watch."  
  
"What do you mean."  
  
"I don't know. Just. She needs someone to watch her."  
  
+++++  
  
The door was ajar, a fact that all paramedics approved of. Sawyer still hesitated on the jam, pushing the dark wooden door with her drug box while Jo waited semi patiently at the bottom of the steps.  
  
"Chicago FD, someone called?"  
  
"In here!"  
  
Sawyer pushed the rest of the way in, Jo on her heels. Following the voice into the living room.  
  
"Nurse Abby!" Sawyer said in shock, pausing momentarily before dropping to her knees beside Abby and the still form on the floor.  
  
"What have we got?" Jo asked, brushing blond hair away from the patient's face and checking pupil response with her penlight. "Oh God," she said when she recognized the face.  
  
"I think a spontaneous abortion. She's hemorrhaging and I can't control it."  
  
"Fuck," Sawyer muttered. "How far?"  
  
"About 25 weeks."  
  
"Jo, we need…"  
  
"Got it," Jo said, already running to the rig.  
  
"I thought she and Dr. Weaver…" Sawyer asked.  
  
"I rent the basement apartment. I just got home from class and she didn't answer when I yelled hi."  
  
"Good thing. She's lost a shitload of blood."  
  
"You have an awesome bedside manner, Sawyer."  
  
"Yeah, so I been told."  
  
Behind them they could hear Jo manhandling the gurney through the doorway.  
  
"We'll get her to Mercy in about three minutes, Abby."  
  
"County."  
  
"What?"  
  
"County. They have a better neo-natal."  
  
Jo and Sawyer exchanged a glance, pausing momentarily before the gurney's straps and blankets securely.  
  
"Abby, you know that…," Jo started.  
  
"And they have a better trauma."  
  
"Okay. Fine," Sawyer said. "You ride in back with me. You can hand me stuff but don't go doing anything."  
  
"I understand. But let me talk to County."  
  
+++++  
  
The doors swung open and the cluster of awaiting medical personnel parted to encircle the gurney. There were a few gasps of recognition and Sawyer realized that only Dr. Kovac had been warned of their patient's identity.  
  
"This is one of our own," Dr. Kovac said fiercely. "And her privacy will be respected until her family has been notified."  
  
There were nods and then the sharp commands for blood and tests and monitors began. Jo nodded at the gurney, but shook her head at Sawyer, motioning her to follow Abby. With a last glance Sawyer dog trotted to the admit desk to catch up.  
  
"Randi?"  
  
"She's upstairs in a conference, Abby. I didn't tell anyone but Dr. Kovac."  
  
"Thank you, Randi. Give her a few minutes lead time, okay?"  
  
"I'll see you up," Sawyer said, following Abby to the elevators.  
  
"You don't have to do that."  
  
"You look like you're about to tip over so I better."  
  
"Okay. Suit yourself."  
  
"You want to clean up first?" Sawyer said, pushing the call button on the elevator.  
  
"No," Abby said, looking at her hands and the blood that stained them and the jacket. "What if…?"  
  
"Dr. Legaspi will be fine. She lost a lot of blood but she was stable when she got here. I know County has a bad rep…"  
  
"Hey!"  
  
"But not for trauma. She'll be okay, Abby Normal."  
  
The elevator doors opened, passengers spilling out and instinctively parting to flow around the two figures. They entered, Abby pushing the button for the admin floor.  
  
"But not the baby," Abby said.  
  
Sawyer sighed. "No, ma'am. I don't think so."  
  
"God, Sawyer, how do I tell her?"  
  
"I dunno," Sawyer said, shrugging. "But tell her quick before she thinks the worse, okay? Want me to come with?"  
  
"No, hold the elevator, would you?"  
  
"Sure," Sawyer said, standing in the door way and allowing the door to bump into the small of her back rather than use the door open button.  
  
The conference room was close to the elevator and Sawyer watched Abby as she knocked on the door. Watched as Weaver came out, taking Abby's hand to turn it over. Gripping it as Abby spoke and nearly stumbling as she turned toward the elevator. Stepping out of the way as Weaver blindly passed her, Abby in her wake.  
  
"I'll catch the stairs," Sawyer said as Abby looked inquiringly.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"Nada."  
  
The stairs were empty and Sawyer was taking them three at a time by the time she reached the ground floor. Pushing the door open with far more force than was necessary she glared around the ER.  
  
"Easy, T."  
  
"Call us in a break."  
  
"I did. We have fifteen minutes off and we'll be dispatched from here."  
  
"I need to stay here a bit."  
  
"I know."  
  
"I need…" She shook her head in frustration. "I need…"  
  
"I know," Jo said, pulling her into the lounge and past it into the shower area. She grabbed a towel, handing it to Sawyer.  
  
"Jo?"  
  
"I'm watching."  
  
And, holding the towel to her face Sawyer screamed, barely feeling Jo holding her or her knees hitting the ceramic tile of the shower room.  
  
+++++  
  
"What's with her?"  
  
Jo didn't need to look to know that Randi was watching Sawyer. Who had been sitting in chairs for the last half hour staring at a cup of coffee held between her knees.  
  
"She takes some calls harder than others."  
  
Randi nodded. "Some of the docs are like that. Stick their hands in a guys chest, push their guts back in, bones sticking out, all kinds of shit? No problem. Little kid comes in needing a few stitches and they're a basket case."  
  
"Something like that."  
  
"So you two are hanging around until when?"  
  
Jo shrugged. "No idea. Knowing T it will either be when our shift is over or when we get word. Likely when we get word."  
  
"Well, this looks like word," Randi said, pointing over Jo's shoulder.  
  
"You waited," Abby said as she got closer.  
  
"Yeah. How are things?"  
  
"Kim will be fine. They're keeping her for a few days but it looks good. Nothing permanent."  
  
"Good. They don't deserve any more grief," Randi said fiercely.  
  
"You okay to get home?" Jo asked.  
  
"Not going to bother. I'll just pass out in the on-call room," Abby said. She looked at chairs. "I'll tell Sawyer."  
  
"So," Randi said as they watched Abby crouch down to speak to Sawyer. "She going to be okay?"  
  
"Sawyer's like this superball. No matter how far it falls it bounces right back up."  
  
"Yo Jo! Time to take the rig back and get some lunch."  
  
"Comin', Sawyer."

// <![CDATA[ geovisit(); // ]]>

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Research: I did some basic research on the Chicago Fire Department, Chicago Emergency Medical Service and the hospital formerly known as Cook County Hospital. While some of that has made it into the story I'm afraid the 38th bears more resemblance to Emergency! and Third Watch. The designations that I've used are, to the best of my knowledge, not assigned to any vehicle or firehouse in the Chicago Fire Department.


	3. An Outrigger Carol

"So. What do you think?"  
  
"That this is a joke. Some hallucination brought on by too many beers and too many pills."

"Is that what you think?"

"No," Sawyer said, sighing. "That's what I hope. That's what I want."

"So. What do you think?"

Sawyer looked down at the still body whose eyes, if they had been opened, would have stared through her and beyond her. "I think it's over."

+++++

"You will be visited by three ghosts."

"Oh, please, Dr. Legaspi. Can't you come up with something more original than Dickens?"

"What makes you think he was original? Maybe he had too much sherry after dinner and..."

"Fine. Three ghosts. Past, present and future. Right. Bring it on."

"You're taking all the fun out of it."

"Well, Dr. Legaspi. Or rather, Marlow, fuck you. You going to warn me about anything? Marlow told Scrooge that he was trying to protect him from his own fate, right?"

"You saw the movie?"

"I read the book. I can read, you know."

"Fine. Yes. Here it is."

"Hit me with it."

"There are many decisions and many universes. In one universe I made a decision that left me alone and loveless. I ran away. I stopped trying. I hid. I would save you from that, T. Sawyer. In many universes, in many timelines, I forsook love in exchange for pride and honour. A poor exchange."

"Thanks for the warning. Now bugger off to where every they store you and bring on the ghosts."

"I am here."

+++++

Sawyer looked behind her, feeling the world shift and turn. The cold of Chicago disappeared leaving the dry heat of a Texas winter. In front of her was a small Latino child, hair curly and fair for her race.

"Who are you, mija?" Sawyer asked.

"My name is Alexandra Maria Sophia Lopez."

"Oh my god."

"I am your guide to your past."

"You know, it's really going to be hard to look you in the eye if I any of this."

The child snorted. "Yeah. Right. Ready?"

"Fine. Sure. Show me."

The child waved her hands and the world shifted and pulled, drawing a house closer to the two people. The blood fled from Sawyer's face and she stumbled, hand reaching out to the window sill that was suddenly there. She looked through the window at the crowd of people, loud and boisterous, around the large table.

"They can't see me, right?"

"Or hear you."

"Why did you bring me here?" Sawyer asked sharply.

"You got it wrong. Why did you bring us here?"

"I thought you were the guide."

"Maybe. Or maybe I'm just watchin'. What's wrong? They look like they're having fun. You look like you're having fun."

Sawyer's gaze followed the Ghost's gesture to a young girl. She was wearing a new dress, Sawyer knew. So new that the collar itched at her neck and lace edge would catch on her shins. Santa had brought it, along with a new doll and some treats.

"I am. Was. But..."

"But what?"

Sawyer watched her younger self frown, as if suddenly becoming aware of a draft. Or a look. As one they turned to look at the man.

"It's the last time." The man smiled. The child was reassured. The adult felt a chill run down her spine.

"Last time what?"

"I don't want to be here."

"Can't leave."

"I thought I was in charge. I thought I was the one that brought us here."

"You are. I'm the one keeping you. Last time what?"

Sawyer could feel the tension. Could feel the back molars as they ground. The child turned from the man, back to her new doll to show it off to her cousins. But Sawyer watched, watched the man as the smile turned from assurance to something much more feral.

"The last time I was safe. The last time I believed in Santa. Just, the last time. Can we go?"

The ghost nodded. "Of course. Hang on."

+++++

The world shifted again, the landscape blurring and blending until the dry heat was replaced by a damp coolness. The wind brought the smell of salt and gas fumes and then the stink of disinfectant and medicine.

"Cool," the Ghost said. "Where are we?"

"Hospital. San Francisco."

The Ghost looked around. The walls of the large hall were covered in bright Santas and reindeers.

"Miss Sawyer!"

Both Sawyer and her ghost turned around. Behind them a teenager, dressed in pink-striped scrubs turned as well.

"Yes, Doctor Howard?"

"Why are you still here? Your volunteer shift was over hours ago. It's Christmas, girl. Go on home to your family."

"Umm, Jewish?"

"Miss Sawyer..."

"I just want to help out a bit more. Please?"

The doctor opened his mouth as if to argue when, from the chairs, a small girl howled in fear and pain. Sawyer's head whipped around towards the sounds and Dr. Howard's words died.

"Oh, my God. He knew," said the adult Sawyer softly as she watched Dr. Howard's expression shift.

"Well, Sawyer," Dr. Howard said. "If you're here you might as well make yourself useful. Grissom will be heading up to pediatrics to do his Santa bit. Want to help him out?"

"Sure, Dr. Howard."

"And since we're going to keep you past suppertime you might as well eat with us in the lounge. You phone your parents. Unless you think they'd mind?"

"No sir. I mean. They know how important this is."

"'Tis the season, Miss Sawyer. Get along."

The adult Sawyer shook her head, ignoring her younger version as she ran through her on her way to the elevator banks.

"After that he made sure I ate before my shift ended. And he kept giving me these hand me downs from his daughter."

"He didn't have any kids," the Ghost said. "He and his wife couldn't."

"I just left. I didn't even say thanks. I didn't know he knew."

"He didn't do it because of that."

"But I didn't say thank you. And now he can't hear me."

"I gotta go."

"But... I don't want to do this anymore. It's too hard."

"Don't worry. This ain't going to kill you," the Ghost said as it faded away as another faded in.

"Because you're already dead, shithead."

+++++

"Hey, Jo."

"Don't 'hey Jo' me," Ghost Jo said. Always taller than Sawyer she now towered over her.

"Ummm, you're my next ghost?"

"Yeah. Present. I'm here to show you that, for some friggin' bizarre reason, people like you and actually miss you."

"What do you mean?"

"No man is an island. You familiar with that one?"

"Yeah."

"I mean like this," Ghost Jo said. She snapped her fingers and the scene abruptly changed.

They stood in a university lecture room, empty except for two figures on the bottom most level.

"I don't get it," the younger one muttered.

"Let's try it again," the older one said.

"It's too hard."

"No way. If I can do it..."

"...you can do it," Sawyer whispered with the older voice.

"Sound familiar?" Ghost Jo asked.

"I use to tell that to Mike."

"Okay, Mike," the younger man said, sighing dramatically.

"You know him," Ghost Jo said.

"Mike. He was taking the course and I was sitting in the back aisle."

"Because you're all shy and retiring."

"Because," Sawyer said, "I was just auditing the course because it was a 10:00 pm course and it was warm and dry."

"University vampire."

Sawyer laughed. "Yeah. He was taking it but it was hard for him. So I helped out."

"I'm never going to get this," the young man complained.

"Yes, you will. You need to get it if you want to be a doctor. You can get it because once you get it three times it'll seem easy. You will get it because I'm the TA for the course and it's my job. Now, we'll work through it again."

"He's TA for the course," Sawyer said, a thread of pride in her voice. "He never thought he'd get it. We worked and worked on it in the student lounge over Christmas Break. I remember when he got it. Finally. 'It's a Wonderful Life' was playing on the television and he..."

"Yes!"

"It's right?"

"Yes," Mike said, pulling a large collection of keys from his jacket and jingling them together.

"...got the answer for the first time and a little bell rang on the television..."

"Another pair of wings for my guardian angel," Mike shouted to the lecture hall's ceiling.

"...and the little girl said to her daddy that it meant another angel got his wings."

"Okay. Let's do another."

"But I got it now, Mike."

"That one was for my angel Sawyer. Now, one for me and one for the professor. Then all the ones you do after are for you."

"Okay."

"And then we'll see if Starbucks is open."

"It's Seattle, Mike. It's always open."

"That was a joke. Solve the problem."

"I don't get it. His angel Sawyer?"

Ghost Jo reached over and slapped the back of Sawyer's head.

"That's fucking annoying, Jo."

"Yeah? You're fucking blind, Sawyer."

Ghost Jo snapped her fingers.

+++++

"Dr. Howard. It's time!"

"He's old," Sawyer whispered.

"Yeah, well, ten years does that to a man."

"Coming, Miss Hills. Is Mr. Grissom suited up?"

"Yes, sir. And the toys are all ready, too."

"Excellent. Afterwards, you'll join us for Christmas dinner in the lounge. Before you head back to the shelter?"

"Yeah, sure, Doctor," the young woman said. She hesitated. "Hey, Doctor. Thanks."

"Whatever for?"

"Just, giving me a chance. Everything."

"Think nothing of it. Listen, I have found some more clothes in the attic. My daughter's before she got married. If you or your friends..."

"Sure. If she doesn't want them."

"No, I'm sure she wouldn't mind."

"Okay. You thank Sawyer for me?"

"Of course. I'll pass it along."

"Funny name for a kid," the girl teased.

"I am a deep fan of Mark Twain, Miss Hills. Now, you best be getting up to pediatrics."

"But," Sawyer said. "Ghost Sandy said they couldn't have kids."

Ghost Jo slapped Sawyer across the head. "You idiot. They can't. He made her up."

"But, he called her Sawyer."

Slap.

"Stop that. Can we go?"

Snap. "Sure."

+++++

"It's the farm house," Sawyer said doubtfully. Devoid of furniture, dust in the corners and the windows smashed she still recognized the room.

"Yeah, well, guess they don't miss you after all," Ghost Jo said harshly.

"What happened?"

"Shit happened."

"Why do I need to see this?"

"Because it's gone. It has no hold on you. They've moved on or beyond or whatever."

"I don't..."

"You don't get it. I know you don't. This is what you've been running away from. Except there's nothing there. The only thing you were running from was you. And now, you can't run no more. I'm through with you."

"Wait, what? But..."

"It's her turn," Ghost Jo said.

"It fucking figures," Sawyer said as she observed the Future Ghost.

+++++

"Bill Murray got a cool special effect. Mr. Carlson got Johnny Fever. How come I get you?"

"Just luck."

"Shouldn't you be Tiny Tim?"

"Shouldn't you have this crutch shoved up your…"

"Easy. Easy."

"Tiny Tim."

"Sorry."

"I didn't have to agree to this."

"I said I was sorry."

Ghost Kerry Weaver blew and exasperated breath, bangs fluttering up. "Tiny Tim."

"They didn't talk in the other movies."

"Who?"

"Ghost of Christmas Future. They just pointed and shit."

"Maybe they had easier people to deal with."

"Hey."

"Let's just get this over with. You ready to see what may come to pass?"

"No."

"Tough."

+++++

It was foggy. A heavy mist unlike anything Sawyer had ever seen.

"What's with the fog?"

"Cloudy the future is."

"Very funny."

"But true. Kim told you about choices? About how each choice makes another world? A world where you didn't run away. A world where you didn't start volunteering at the hospital. Where you didn't help out Mike."

"Sort of. Are you going to show me all the street kids that Dr. Howard help because he pitied me? All the doctors and nurses that Mike will help pass because he felt obligated?"

"Screw that. They don't matter. You have no control over them. You made your choices and decisions and the influence of those choices is beyond your control. You could disappear tonight but Dr. Howard will still take in the street kids and make sure they get a meal and dry clothes. Mike will go on and work in a teaching hospital because it means more to him to pass on the knowledge than to actually heal someone."

"Oh," Sawyer said. "Then what are you going to show me?"

"The decisions you have to make still."

The fog cleared, revealing the reading room at the 38th.

"Jo?" Sawyer said.

"I dunno, Sandy. I think I pushed her too far."

"They can't hear you," Ghost Kerry said.

"I knew that," Sawyer protested. "It slipped out."

"What do you mean?" Sandy asked.

"I knew… I understood that she was running away from something. And I knew I couldn't push."

"I thought you two were getting along."

"We are. We were. I don't know."

"What happened?"

"We have tomorrow and Christmas off. I asked her if she wanted to come to my folks place in Fort Wayne. Turkey dinner. You know. Just family."

"And?"

"I freaked," Sawyer told Ghost Kerry.

"She freaked."

"Well, you know, introducing your lover to your family for the first time at Christmas…"

"She's not."

Ghost Kerry raised an eyebrow. "You're not? Are you insane?"

"Shut up," Sawyer muttered.

"She's not," Jo said to the floor. "We're not. We're… I don't know what we are."

"Hey," Sandy said, pulling Jo's chin up. "It'll be okay."

"Will it?" Jo asked.

"Will it?" Ghost Kerry asked.

"I gave her what I could," Sawyer said defiantly.

"Sure you did," Ghost Kerry said.

"She was pushing me into… into something. Too fast."

"I was pushing too fast," Jo said.

"Too fast? Mija, you two have been an item for nearly six months and you haven't done the deed? And this was too fast?"

"It was for her."

"I don't believe this. Look. I like Sawyer. She's a good friend and an excellent paramedic and I trust her with my life. But she's obviously not you girlfriend."

"That's enough," Sawyer said.

"She's obviously afraid to commit."

"I said that's enough."

"She puts walls up between everyone."

"Stop it! That's enough!"

The fog rolled back, hiding both Sandy and Jo and their words.

+++++

"Well. That was fun," Sawyer said.

"Not much."

"No, not much at all," Sawyer sighed. "What now? You show me my grave?"

"If you want." The fog parted revealing a gray marble grave marker.

T. SAWYER. 2021.

"I like that one."

"They're all nice," Ghost Kerry said, waving the crutch through the fog. The marker disappeared and another stood revealed as the fog reformed.

SAWYER. 2035.

"Most of them are like this. Just your name and the date you died."

T. SAWYER. 2026.

"After you left Chicago you moved on. And then again. And again."

T. SAWYER. 2028.

"All the way east to New York and then down the eastern seaboard."

SAWYER. 2031.

"Probably if you'd lived long enough you'd have reached Texas again."

T. SAWYER. 2040.

"I like this one too. New Orleans mausoleums are always so classy."

"You said most are like this."

"Hmmm. You'd always get a job helping. As a paramedic until you couldn't meet the physical requirements."

T. SAWYER. 2005.

"In the time lines were you lived to old age you'd volunteer at libraries and youth shelters."

"You said most are like this," Sawyer said, more loudly.

"No matter what you did it was always a job that helped people. A job that brought order to chaos. That's just your nature and you never tried to run from that."

"Please," Sawyer said, gently touching the hand over the grip of the crutch. Breathing a sigh of relief when she felt warm skin. "Show me one not like this."

"Very well. But it will hurt."

"Show me."

A gravestone appeared and slowly Sawyer sunk to her knees, fingers hesitantly tracing the five letters of her first name before moving on to her surname. Pausing over the third word.

BELOVED.

"There's no… there's no date."

"No."

"How long did Jo and I have?"

"What makes you think it was Jo?"

"She's the only one I told my name to."

Ghost Kerry put her hand on Sawyer's shoulder. "You had a lifetime. Shorter than some I've shown you. Longer than others. Does it matter?"

"No. I guess it doesn't."

+++++

"Ghost Jo said I was dead already," Sawyer said, looking down at her still body.

"Yes. Not physically but emotionally. Spiritually. Dead as a dormouse."

"I'm too old to change."

Sawyer had never before heard Kerry Weaver laugh. "You're never too old to change, Sawyer. You're only too scared. Now, do you know what happens next?"

"I wake up. And either I finish packing my duffel and catch the next bus out of town. Or…"

"Or what, Sawyer?"

"Or I don't."

+++++

Consciousness for Sawyer had always been like a light switch. She flicked into consciousness looking wildly around the room, her attention finally caught by the half filled duffel bag.

"It was just a dream."

"Dream! Weren't you paying attention?" Ghost Kerry said, bringing the crutch down toward Sawyer's head.

+++++

"Jesus God," Sawyer said, sitting bolt upright.

She pinched herself sharply and, not trusting the pain, again.

"It was just a dream," she said. Wishing she could bring herself to believe it. Slowly she rose and stuffed the last few bits of clothes into the duffel bag.

Without a last look she left the apartment.

+++++

The time between the last knock and the click of the locks was, objectively, a few seconds.

Subjectively galaxies were born and died.

"Hey," Sawyer said. She had hoped for a smile. Maybe anger. The expressionless glare was hard to take.

"You going somewhere?" Jo asked, looking at the duffel by Sawyer's feet.

Sawyer nodded, mumbled something at the general direction of Jo's belt.

"What?"

"Fort Wayne," Sawyer said. She breathed in another lungful of air and courage. "Fort Wayne. With you. If the invitation is still open. I wasn't sure what to pack so I just brought everything. I thought…"

Jo's eyes closed. "T?"

"Yeah, Jo?"

"The invitation is always open," Jo said, eyes opening and the beginning of a smile appearing.

"Good. Will they, ah… will they be upset if I introduce myself as your girlfriend? As well as work partner."

"Surprised a bit. Not upset. You sure?"

"No," Sawyer said. "I'm just sure I don't have a choice anymore."

"Okay. Well, you want to come in while I finish packing then?"

Sawyer shove kicked her duffel into the hall. "Great. Can I use your phone? I need to make a call."

"Sure. My phone is your phone."

"Thanks," Sawyer said, punching in the ten digits which memory hadn't dimmed. She held her breath for the three rings, breathing in while listening to the receptionist. Breathing out to calm herself.

"Hi," she said. "Can I talk to Dr. Howard?"


	4. Chapter 4

"Don't you ever sleep?"

Sawyer tugged the earphones from her head and looked over the book. "Of course."

"I've never seen you."

"You never saw the dark side of the moon. But it's there."

Jo shook her head. "Not the same."

"Right. It ain't. Let me think of a better example." So saying she put back on the earphones and went back to her book.

"Are you thinking or ignoring me?"

"Yes."

"T!" Across the bunk room several forms turned on their bunks.

"Yes, Jo?"

"Why are you ignoring me?" Jo asked her voice lowered to a hissing whisper.

"Because there is no real good or simple answer. Therefore, I choose to ignore it."

"You can't do that."

"I believe I can and did."

"You can't do that."

"Why not?"

Jo stared at her silently, fingers clenching and releasing the blanket.

Sawyer sighed. "You want to go get some hot chocolate or something?"

"This is more ignoring."

"No. Just changing the location of the ignoring. Yes or no?"

"Yes," Jo said, pushing the blankets aside and grabbing her socks, shoes and shirt before following Sawyer down the stairs. In the kitchen she found a seat and watched as Sawyer prepared the hot chocolate.

"Dehydrated foam pretending to be baby marshmallows or plain?" Sawyer asked finally.

"Yes," Jo answered, the word drawn out to twice its usual pronunciation.

"I deserved that."

"You did. No marshmallows."

"Okay. Oreo?" Sawyer asked as she took the bag from the cupboard.

"Yes."

Sawyer carefully twisted a cookie apart and handed the bottom and icing to Jo.

"This a peace offering?"

"Not exactly. I have trouble sleeping. I have more trouble in a setting like the bunkroom. When I have trouble sleeping I tend to have... interesting dreams. When I have interesting dreams I tend to wake up abruptly. Often loudly. Sometimes violently when someone tries to stop the yelling," Sawyer said to the top of the Oreo cookie.

"Hey."

"Yeah, Jo?"

"Okay."

"Okay what."

"Okay I understand. You want me to stay awake with you?"

"You don't have to do that."

"I know I don't have to."

Sawyer dissected another Oreo and handed the iced bottom to Jo. "I'm not use to that."

"What, someone staying up?"

"Someone offering."

+++++

"I love Christmas."

"So you keep saying."

"The lights. People trying to be nice. The snow covering the trash."

"Yeah, wonderful," Sawyer said, staring out the passenger window at the aforementioned lights, people and snow.

"Family and friends. Two days off," Jo said, pulling into the lot behind Sawyer's building. "You have any plans?"

"Wha? Oh, no."

"You could come with me. To Fort Wayne. One more person wouldn't be noticed," Jo said, striving for casual.

"I..."

"You don't have to answer right now. Just, think it over."

"Yeah. I will. See ya tomorrow."

Wishing that any word other than 'escape' could be used, Jo watched as Sawyer entered the building and disappeared from sight. Slowly she began to bounce her head against the steering wheel.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid."

+++++

"Hey cheerful, what's up?" The reading room was dark and mostly deserted. "And in case you were wondering, I was being sarcastic about the cheerful."

"Nothings up. Everything is down."

"Christmas blues, Jo? Second thoughts about asking Sawyer to meet the folks?"

"Maybe."

"What? I thought you two were good."

"I dunno, Sandy. I think I pushed her too far."

"What do you mean?" Sandy asked.

"I knew... I understood that she was running away from something. And I knew I couldn't push."

"I thought you two were getting along."

"We are. We were. I don't know."

"What happened?"

"We have tomorrow and Christmas off. I asked her if she wanted to come to my folks place in Fort Wayne. Turkey dinner. You know. Just family."

"And?"

"She freaked."

"Well, you know, introducing your lover to your family for the first time at Christmas..."

"She's not."

"Excuse me?"

"She's not," Jo said to the floor. "We're not. We're... I don't know what we are."

"Hey," Sandy said, pulling Jo's chin up. "It'll be okay."

"Will it?" Jo asked. "I was pushing too fast."

"Too fast? Mija, you two have been an item for nearly six months and you haven't done the deed? And this was too fast?"

"It was for her."

"I don't believe this. Look, I like Sawyer. She's a good friend and an excellent paramedic and I trust her with my life." Sandy paused, as if drawing a mental line and then crossed it. "But she's obviously not your girlfriend. She's obviously afraid to commit. She puts walls up between everyone."

"Not me. Not even now."

"I hope you're right, Jo."

+++++

Jo opened the door, not sure who she was expecting, only that a pale and drawn Sawyer wasn't on the list.

"Hey."

"You going somewhere?" Jo asked, looking at the duffel by Sawyer's feet. Fear began to take hold. Not at all alleviated when Sawyer muttered her answer.

"What?"

"Fort Wayne," Sawyer said. "Fort Wayne. With you. If the invitation is still open. I wasn't sure what to pack so I just brought everything. I thought..."

Jo's eyes closed. "T?"

"Yeah, Jo?"

"The invitation is always open," Jo said, eyes opening and the beginning of a smile appearing.

"Good. Will they, ah... will they be upset if I introduce myself as your girlfriend? Instead of your partner. Work partner. Not that other partner. Because I'm still working on the girlfriend part of partner and I am absolutely amazed that people call me taciturn. Which I did not have to look up in the dictionary as my grade one teacher put it on my report card and my mom did and will they be upset?"

"Surprised a bit. Not upset. You sure?"

"No," Sawyer said. "I'm just sure I don't have a choice anymore."

"Okay. Well, you want to come in while I finish packing then?"

Sawyer shove kicked her duffel into the hall. "Great. Can I use your phone? I need to make a call."

"Sure. My phone is your phone," Jo said, backing down the hall to her bedroom.

"Thanks."

+++++

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Jus' scared."

"You're scared? You're scared and admitting it?"

"Yeah. Just to you. I do have a reputation as a hard ass to protect."

"But I don't count?"

"No, you don't matter."

Jo laughed, causing Sawyer to startle, frown and then smile. "That came out wrong."

"I figured."

"It doesn't matter if you know. I trust you."

Jo paused, backtracking because the current conversational location was somewhat terrifying at the moment.

"Why scared?"

"Oh. Spotlight. Outsider. Girlfriend."

The last was a question and Jo nodded, hand reaching out to grip Sawyer's fingers.

"Girlfriend," Sawyer repeated as if trying it on for size. "This is a weekend for firsts. Where do I sleep?"

"With me in my old room. Double beds so my parents have plausible deniability."

"They are okay with this, right?"

"Well, it's been theory until now, never been put to a practical before."

"Ah. Definitely a week for firsts. I trust you're scared?"

"Somewhat terrified. Want to go back to Chicago?"

Sawyer looked up at the house, the front window full of curious faces. "Too late, we've been spotted."

+++++

"You work with Aunt Jo?"

"Yes."

"You a fireman?"

"Firewoman, stupid."

"No. I'm a paramedic."

"You ever get to amputate a leg?"

"Ah, no."

"Daddy got to amputate a leg once."

"Well, ain't he lucky."

"Yeap. And he delivered twins. Did you deliver twins?"

"No. Just one baby."

"My daddy delivered quadtrimuplets."

"There's no such word as quadtrimuplets."

"Is."

"Isn't."

"Is."

"Isn't."

"Easy now. Christmas time. Santa won't come if you argue."

An immediate silence fell.

"Do you believe in Santa?"

"Jo," Sawyer called out, trying to gauge how loud her voice needed to be to be heard above the murder of children around her.

"Are you going to sleep in Aunt Jo's bed? Because Glenda snores..."

"Do not!"

"Jo!"

+++++

In retrospect Jo realized that she had always known that it would be a memorable moment; something that would need no proof or picture or memento because the memory would be enough.

The adults had waited with a patience Jo found hard to believe before pouncing on her with a hundred questions. She had looked briefly toward the family room where the children had dragged Sawyer to watch the their newest Disney DVD and then sighed and settled down for the inquisition.

It still played, bright Disney lighting the sleeping forms, her nieces and nephews sprawled boneless over the couch and Sawyer. Quietly Jo sat on the edge of the coffee table to watch Sawyer sleep.

After a few minutes Sawyer stiffened slightly, abruptly awake. "I read once in some god-cats-are-great book about some Chinese emperor that cut the sleeve of a priceless robe rather than wake up a kitten." She winced. "I have no feeling in my left arm, Jo."

"Stop whining."

"It is a statement of fact," Sawyer said, trying to stretch and flex her arm without disturbing the children using her legs as pillows. "Have they got it out of their systems?"

"What?"

"Your family? You answered all their questions."

Jo lifted a child's head enough for Sawyer to slip free and then placed a pillow to support the sleeping child.

"Jo?"

"Actually, I could only answer about a quarter of the questions. There weren't that many that I both knew the answer to and was willing to say."

"Oh."

"Here, give me the baby and I'll return him to his mom."

"Jo?"

"I'll meet you in the room, okay?"

+++++

Sawyer stared at the ceiling. It was, she supposed, a nice ceiling. It being dark she really couldn't tell.

Jo had fallen asleep quickly after changing for bed. Sawyer had a harder time of it. Getting use to the bed was easy. The posters of Bon Jovi and Aerosmith was much harder. The stirring of nearly a dozen people in a house was impossible.

The door handle turned, slowly and a small child looked in solemnly before pushing the door open to enter the room. Jo stirred and turned away from the hall light.

"Glenda snores."

Sawyer sat up in bed. "You want me to do something? Tyler, right? Shouldn't you ask your mom?" she asked, trying desperately to match the child with the adult and drawing a blank.

The boy shook his head and pointed at Sawyer's bed. "Glenda snores," he repeated.

"So you said. You wanna sleep with me?"

"No. You take up too much room. "

"You're kicking me out of my bed?"

"No. It's grandma's bed."

"Where do I sleep?"

"You can sleep with Aunt Jo. Remember?"

"I can?"

"Mommy and Daddy sleep together. But not in the same room with Glenda."

Sawyer sighed and slipped out of the bed, tucking the boy in and then standing for a few minutes considering her options.

"Move over."

"What?"

"I've been evicted. Take me in?"

"I snore if I lie on my back," she said.

"That's okay, apparently it's a family trait. I'll just pinch your nose if you do."

"I love you," Jo said, id still apparently asleep and ego too tired to censor her.

"Yeap."

"Are you going to say you love me too or make me wait?"

"Yeap."

"You are a total ass. You know that, right?"

"Yeap. And yeap."

+++++

It was the soft click of the door locking that woke her up again.

"Jeez, T. Easy."

"Sorry, I..." she cocked her head and paused. "Where is everyone?"

"Church. Or, rather, on their way. They'll be back in about two-three hours."

"You didn't want to go with them?" Sawyer asked, sitting up in the bed. Jo shook her head, approaching the side of the bed and crouching down.

"Wouldn't want to tempt any lightning," Jo said with a smile that caused Sawyer to draw back just a little.

"Lightning?"

"Sitting in church while thinking of you," Jo said, tugging softly on the edge of the quilt. "My thoughts would not be appropriate to celebrating mass."

"No?" Sawyer croaked, clearing her throat slightly. "Your thoughts would be?"

"Celebrating you."

"Oh."

"Although I'm getting mixed signals at the moment."

Sawyer watched as Jo leaned back on her heels, hands falling to her knees. Carefully balanced. The picture of patience.

Sawyer flipped back the cover.

"You sure?" as she crawled in, propping herself up on one elbow as she lay beside Sawyer.

"Jesus, Jo, it's been six months. I'm slow but not dead."

"Then why are you trembling?"

"We did establish my terror yesterday, right?"

"Why? I mean, everyone has a first... ow. What was that for?"

"You're not my first anything," Sawyer muttered and then smiled at Jo's disappointed expression. "Well, 'cept first that matters."

"That'll do," Jo said, dipping her head slightly. Pausing and waiting until Sawyer rose to meet her.

"I'm not scared anymore," Sawyer said after a few minutes.

"But you're still trembling."

"I am."

"And you're speaking with an accent."

"I am?"

"You are. Do you think it gets thicker if we, um..."

"Likely," Sawyer said and then hissed as Jo shifted positions. "Jesus God."

" Are you sure you're speaking English? I could barely understand that."

"Don't let it go to your head. You set an alarm? Because if your family walks in on me getting all Texas twangy I will die."

"You're safe."

"I am?"

"You are."

+++++

"How long has it been since you had a family Christmas, Sawyer?"

"I left home when I was fourteen. So that long," Sawyer said, oblivious to the reactions of the adults as she held the potato bowl for Tyler.

"I'll be fourteen in six years. Can I leave home then, Dad?"

"No, Tyler. You may not."

Tyler frowned at his father but shrugged and took another scoop of potatoes.

"How long have you been Aunt Jo's girlfriend?"

"Since, I guess since she got her firefighter ticket back." This time the adult's reactions were too pronounced to miss. "What?" Sawyer asked in confusion.

"You recertified?" Jo's father asked as Jo's mother stood abruptly, mumbling something about more vegetables and hurrying to the kitchen.

"Couple of months ago. But it was just... I just did it. It doesn't mean anything, okay?"

"Your mother..."

"Your mother," Jo's mother interrupted as she returned and banged a bowl of peas onto the table, "was relieved beyond words when you transferred to the paramedics. What happened to Ted was tragic. It could so easily have been you."

"Grandma stopped Daddy from being a fireman when I was born," Tyler whispered loudly to Sawyer.

"Mom, I took the recert but I'm not..."

"God knows how many morning I've spent at the church praying..."

"Mary, if the girl wants to..."

Abruptly Sawyer stood, mumbling something even she didn't understand and heading away from the table. Slightly surprised to find herself knee deep in snow in the back yard, shivering in her light shirt. Not at all surprised when a coat was placed on her shoulders. Or when a warm body pressed up behind her.

"Sorry. They're all sorry and ashamed and want you to come back."

"You were all yelling..."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"...and you weren't mad or angry. Not really. You were all yelling because you love each other."

"T?"

Sawyer turned. "It was wonderful and I couldn't stay there another minute. I'm not upset at you or your family, okay?"

"Okay," Jo said, hugging her tight. "You coming back in?"

"I didn't put on my shoes before I came out."

"So you're coming in?"

"With you. In a minute."

+++++

"And you'll be back for Easter?"

"Yes, Mom."

"And you'll come too, Sawyer?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"I do wish you wouldn't be so silly about telling us your first name. It seems so odd to call you by your last name."

"No, ma'am," Sawyer said firmly.

"It was good to meet you, Sawyer."

A thousand words fought with each other to express something that Sawyer could not define. "Thank you, ma'am."

"Call me Mary."

"No, ma'am!"

Jo's mother laughed and then stepped back from the car. "Drive carefully!"

+++++

The only clear recollection Jo had of the actual impact was Sawyer's ability to stretch a four letter word into near paragraph length.

"Jo!"

"Yeah. I'm good," Jo shouted, awareness returning. Good was relative as she seemed to be lying on her side, suspended by her seat belt. Reflexively she turned the keys to the off position. "What happened?"

"Something hit your side. You sure you're okay?"

"Yes. We're flipped," Jo said, twisting around in the seat belt and trying to get her bearings. From outside she could hear the rumble of yelling voices approaching, still to far away to make out the words. Through the spider web fracturing of the windshield she could see the rough cinderblocks of a building a few inches away. "Can you reach the mike and radio this in?"

"I don't think I can."

"T? Oh, hell. Watch out."

Carefully Jo released the seat belt, carefully orientating herself before dropping the few inches to the ground. Glass crunched underfoot as she attempted to crouch low enough to see Sawyer.

"Lotta blood here, T."

"Yeah. And my right side is all numb and I can't move my leg."

Jo pulled the maglight from her equipment belt, shining it onto Sawyer's head. "It looks like mostly face lacerations and one nasty scalp wound." Jo did a quick pat down on Sawyer's arms and legs, unable to reach much lower than the right knee before being stopped by the metal from the door and dash.

"Hurts like hell."

"I know," Jo said, attention pulled away by the obvious sounds of someone climbing up the ambulance. "Looks like the drug box clipped you. Can't tell about your leg "

"Hey down there. You okay?"

Jo looked up at the face in her side window. "I'm fine but my partner has undetermined injuries and we'll need the jaws to get her free."

There was a flurry of emotions. "Get up here," the man said. Jo paused but nodded.

"Be right back, T. Don't wiggle."

"That's not what you said last night," Sawyer said faintly.

"Hey, stay awake," Jo commanded, using the seat for a leg up. She popped out of the window, looking around curiously.

"My god," she said, turning back to the man who she now saw was Chicago police.

"We have to get you out of here."

"Can't. Her leg's pinned by the dash."

"Your guys are on the way but..."

"Get me a crow bar or something."

"Right," the officer said, dropping down.

Muttering Jo clambered back down.

"Pro'lem?" Sawyer asked, voice groggy. "And I can tell if you lie so don' bother."

"Right. We're smacked up against a building with a big SUV holding us there. There are three other cars. The one against our rear fender's on fire."

"I see."

"Don't worry. I'll..."

There was a muffled wummmph sound and the ambulance was pushed even closer to the wall.

"Jo, you have to get out of here," Sawyer stated calmly.

"No way."

"Listen, I'm trapped, there's a shitload of explosive gases in the back. You need to get out and help."

"But..."

"You swore."

"But..."

"Hand me the fucking drug box and get out of here."

"I can't do that."

"30mg, Jo. Boom, one-shot bolus. C'mon, you swore."

"T..."

"Listen!"

Automatically Jo fell silent, waiting to hear Sawyer's next argument. Hearing instead the crackle pop of flames and the panicked shouting. Not hearing even the echo of the high-low of the fire truck. "Don't make me do this."

"Don't make me bash my brains out on side of the bus. Gimme the drug box. No one will know. G'wan."

The conflict of emotions suddenly ceased. "Shut your eyes. I can't do it if you're watching."

+++++

"I must be in purgatory."

"I think that's the nicest compliment I've received from a patient," Kerry Weaver said.

"Really? Then this isn't purgatory?"

"Not in the literal sense. To be honest it's more often compared to hell."

"Jo didn't kill me."

"Of course not. Although she misjudged the Droperidol and had to give you a second dose. You seem to have a high tolerance to it. I want you to lie still..."

"But I told her to. She swore," Sawyer said as the room began to fray around the edges.

"Just lay quietly, Sawyer," Kerry said, her voice hollow and distant to Sawyer's ears as consciousness faded again.

+++++

Consciousness came more abruptly this time.

"Easy," said a vaguely familiar voice. "You're in soft restraints at the moment."

Sawyer opened her eyes slowly. At the foot of the bed, feet propped up on the bed frame a young man sat reading from a file.

"Why," she asked.

"Second and third time you woke up you nearly tore out your IV. I'm Dr. Foster."

"Dr. Bunny."

"Ah. Yeah. That's me."

"How... Where's Jo?"

"Probably in one of the lounges."

"Why... Anyone else hurt at the accident?"

"Some seat belt burn and airbag nose squashing. That was about it."

"Am I... Why are you here?"

"Bit of a Cook County tradition. Whenever someone in Emergency services is admitted we try to get an emergency department nurse or doctor to sit with them until they wake up. Especially when... Anyway, someone who understands answering the questions," Foster said. He pushed back on his chair, teetering a bit and grinning at Sawyer. "Now. Do you want to ask those three questions you started?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"You asked how. How badly are you hurt is the usual lead off question."

"Okay. How badly am I hurt?"

"Your right shoulder was dislocated. Your upper right arm was broken. Three cracked ribs. Your emergency services coat buffered the seat belt. Your right leg is badly bruised. You have a twelve stitch scalp wound and the right side of your face is pretty much a single bruise. A badly scratched single bruise."

"God."

"Your next question immediately followed asking where Jo was and began with 'why'. Jo is more than just your EMT partner?"

Sawyer hesitated and then nodded once.

"Then," Foster said, "I'll refer that one to Jo. Next question started 'am I'. And I haven't a clue what that one was."

"Am I badly burned?"

"Oh. No. Not burned at all. As I understand it the fire didn't reach the cab. You were unconscious?" Sawyer nodded. "I'm not sure how close the fire got. Jo would know."

"Okay. Thanks, Dr. Bunny." Sawyer said, shifting slightly. "You the only one available to sit with me?"

Foster hesitated. "Not exactly."

"I see. Jo thought it would be good if a shrink was sitting here?"

"Actually, Dr. Weaver suggested it."

"Weaver? Why?"

"Maybe because she was there when you woke up the first three times."

"I kinda remember once. I don't remember being tied up."

"You weren't the first time. You woke up the next two times struggling and eventually we decided to use the restraints."

"You gonna take them off or is that how you get your jollies?"

"Well, yeah, maybe," he grinned. "But not with a patient. That would be ethically wrong."

+++++

The lounge was deserted except for two figures. Sawyer nodded at Chris Yensen as she stood and totally ignored the hunched figure of Jo as she huddled in Yensen's borrowed EMS coat.

"I'm clear to go, Lieutenant. I understand you're giving me a ride?"

"Sure. Jo, you ready?"

"Yeah," Jo said, standing awkwardly with her hands rammed deep into the pockets of the coat.

+++++

"I didn't realize you were such a gentleman."

"What?"

"Car door, seeing her in. Did you kiss her goodnight or just shake hands?"

"You are so unbelievably out of line," Chris said, pulling out of the parking lot. "You know, I thought she was overreacting but I see she has you pegged."

"What? Pegged how?"

"While we were waiting for you to be released she told me to prepare a letter of recommendation. That she was applying to the Fort Wayne FD."

"What?"

"I said she told me..."

"No," Sawyer said, interrupting. "What!"

"She said you wouldn't want to work with her."

"Well, I don't."

"If I wasn't on duty and legally responsible for your welfare at this exact moment in time I'd kick your ass out of my car..."

"But she..."

"Without stopping."

"Lied."

Stony silence.

"Sawyer, can I ask you two questions?"

"Yeah," Sawyer said grudgingly.

"Did Jo lie or did you ask her to do something impossible?"

"And the second?" Sawyer asked after a minute of silence.

"Why didn't Jo take her hands out of her coat pockets?"

"Fuck," Sawyer muttered after a short pause. "Damnit, I gotta..." she said louder before undoing her seatbelt and beginning to open the door.

"Hey," Chris yelped, slamming on the brakes and causing a cascade of horns to sound. In her rear view mirror she could see Sawyer threading her way through traffic.

"Idiot."

+++++

"Coming. I'm coming."

Sawyer shifted from foot to foot, attention divided between the sounds of locks and listening for pursuit.

"I wasn't expecting you for another half... oh."

"It's me. I expect the lieutenant will be along momentarily. Can I come in and barricade the door?"

The smile was brief. The hesitation longer. "Sure," Jo said, sounding anything but.

"Want me to help with that?"

"I can manage. It looks worse than it is."

"It looks pretty bad, Jo."

Jo looked down at her hands encased in gauze and surgical tape. "Actually, the pain killers haven't quite worn off yet so maybe it is as bad as it looks."

"They weren't cut when you were checking me out?"

"No. It was later," Jo said, sighing after a few moments when Sawyer's expression indicated that the subject was not going to be dropped anytime soon. "You freaked and started thrashing."

"Thrashing?"

"You were scared."

"Scared. Yeah, I suppose I was. There's more to it than that, right?" Sawyer asked.

"Yes. But it's not important right now."

"You, ah, you can't look after yourself like that."

"Chris said she'd stay over a few days until the bandages were off."

"Not me," Sawyer muttered to herself.

"I'm surprised to see you here at all, to be honest."

"I am to, since we're being honest."

"Then why?"

"It was pointed out to me that perhaps I was being unfair."

"Unfair?"

"I believe the word 'ass' was going to enter into the conversation any moment."

Jo's eyes closed. "So now what?"

"Jo, you know how... terrified I am of burning, right?"

"About as much as I'm terrified of being responsible for another death. For your death," Jo said, eyes opening with a fierceness that caused Sawyer to take a step back and bang against the door. "Which, by the way, didn't happen. It is so fucking Sawyerish to be bitching about not being dead when clearly I was right. It is so fucking Sawyerish to be disappointed to be alive."

"That's not true."

Jo's right eyebrow rose in question.

"I am glad to be alive."

"Right."

"I am," Sawyer assured her. "You are too, right?"

Jo sighed. "Yeah. I'm glad you're not dead. Come here."

Tentatively Sawyer moved forward until she bumped up against Jo softly and felt arms hold her loosely.

"Sawyerish isn't a word," Sawyer said, voice muffled by Jo's shirt.

"Should be."

"At least you got yourself safe, right?" Sawyer asked and then groaned into Jo's collarbone when silence was her answer.

"How can you ask me to do these things?" Jo asked.

"Easy," Sawyer said, taking a half step back. "Jo, don't let me burn to death. Jo, keep yourself safe."

"I didn't. I was. Trust me?"

"Hard," replied Sawyer, voice muffled.

"To trust me?" Jo asked, hurt making her tone bitter.

"No. I trust you. That's what's hard."

"Most days I don't really understand you, Sawyer."

"Yeah, you do. Better than anyone. That's hard, too," Sawyer said before a slight pause and then, "I love you, by the way."

"I suppose that's hard as well?"

"No. Wish it was. If loving you was hard I could run away."

Jo pulled Sawyer back, content to hold her silently until the loud banging on the apartment door began.

"Jo!"

"Oh Lord. It's the lieutenant. She's come to kill me."

Jo pushed Sawyer toward the living room. "Hide out in there. I'll explain to her."

Sawyer moved into the living area and around the corner, out of sight of the apartment door, focusing on the photos on the wall and shelves to drown out the voices. The angry and exasperated voice of Chris, the calming voice of Jo, the little voice screaming to make a break out the balcony window. Focusing instead of the photos of Jo growing up, of her family, of her in first a firefighting uniform and then that of a paramedic. Stopping at a candid picture taken only a few weeks ago, Sawyer sitting between Jo's legs as she opened a Christmas gift.

"Okay," Jo said, coming into the living room and watching Jo as she slowly revolved in the middle of the room. "Whatchya looking for?"

"I know why you could never find me at my place when you do this."

"Why?" Jo asked, stopping an arm's length from Sawyer. Smiling as Sawyer reached out and covered Jo's heart with her hand.

"I'm here."

The End


End file.
